At Dusk
by Bl4ckSun
Summary: Aang was killed in his final battle due to Prince Zuko's betrayal. The war is ending, and Fire Lord Ozai needs to establish dominance over the falling nations. Katara, recovering in the South, is shocked to find an extremely unwelcome offer that she won't be able to refuse. Zutara. Rated M for later chapters
1. Derp!

Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar nor any of its characters

Yay, introduction chapter! Please don't freak out over inaccuracies!

* * *

"Father, please reconsider. A proposal like that is...shameful for me. And for you, and to this family." Zuko stood and defied his father humbly. Fire Lord Ozai turned and frowned sternly at his son.

"Prince Zuko, do you understand the concept of foresight?"

"Yes, father."

"Do you know what will happen, when the other nations fall beneath us, as they will?"

"Um..."

"We colonize them. We infiltrate each major city in each nation, we take control over their trade flow, their resources, and we redirect them to benefit the greatest nation of all, our Fire Nation. They will rise against us, they will rebel. And so as the royal family, we take what is called a ward. A ward is a noble hostage kept within the ruling family to ensure cooperation from _their_ families."

"Father, I'm the crown prince, do you really want a foreign Fire Lady?!"

Ozai ran a hand through his hair and, to Zuko's shock, sat back down on the great throne. A great sigh emitted from the young Fire Lord's mouth. Zuko's shoulders relaxed slightly, almost knowing what his father was about to say.

"Don't think I haven't thought about that," said Ozai, seemingly calm. "I actually need you somewhere else, and it has to do with your arranged marriage."

"Azula is going to be the Fire Lady, isn't she," said Zuko monotonously. Ozai didn't respond, which was about as good as a yes. Typically, the ruler of the fire nation was male; they generally adhered to the tradition of upholding family names. But they both knew that Azula, if anybody, would domineer over whatever unfortunate man was paired with her. And chances were good that Ozai had already chosen for her too.

"I will be sending nobles to each nation, to establish a ruling household in conjunction with the native wards. The families will be within entirely Fire Nation courts and guards, to ensure loyalty and connection to the motherland. These plans will be carried out as each nation falls. The Earth nation still stands, although barely. The water tribes, however, are torn and about to shatter. I think that with some strategic political action, we could entirely destroy their unity and morale."

"You want me to marry a water tribe girl."

"Yes and no, Zuko. You can't marry just any water tribe girl. This is for political gain; she must be a figurehead. The princess of the Northern Tribe is gone. That just leaves the Southern Tribe..."

"The Southern Tribe is a mere shadow of its sister tribe. There's hardly anybody left. It's in complete ruin."

"But the princess lives."

* * *

"Katara, may I come in?"

A girl lay still on her bed, curled up beneath thick furs. Her curly hair was loose around her, her hands curled into loose fists. She had hardly moved in days, ever since her return to her tribe.

"I don't feel like talking, Gran-gran..."

"I'm sorry dear, it's just, a letter came for you this morning. I took the liberty of reading it. I hope you don't mind. The seal made me suspicious." The old woman shuffled into the tent. Summer had come to the world, and for the Southern Water Tribe that meant game was plentiful. The war-torn villages were finally able to support their impoverished families, who were affected the most by the halt of international trade.

But this meant little to Katara. After the loss of her closest friend Aang, and the loss of all hope for the war, after the betrayal of Prince Zuko and the near-death of her brother, she couldn't find her will to fight anymore.

"Unless the entire Fire Nation royal family died in a horrifying freak accident, I don't really care Gran-gran." Katara sniffled into her furs. Sokka had left to join the front lines, and if the letter had any sort of bad news about him, she _really_ didn't want to hear it. Her brother had somehow transformed his grief into rage; he hadn't even come home from the Fire Nation. He immediately joined an Earth brigade on their way out, and left Katara to take Appa and Momo back by herself.

Katara, however, couldn't bear the war anymore. She couldn't face more loss than what she had. Her father had quickly been taken captive again, being the greatest Water Tribe target, and an active force on the war front. Her brother was in Ba Sing Se, the city with the most heated fighting in the world.

"Um...not quite, darling..."

The grief in her grandmother's voice was what made Katara slowly sit up. Her eyes were dark with tears, but they focused on the old woman intently.

"Please, not Sokka," she whispered. "Don't tell me if it's Sokka." Her voice lowered to a husky beg. Her grandmother shuffled over, taking a seat on the soft bed beside her. Clenched in her wrinkled hands was a large, important-looking scroll. Katara's heart shuffled oddly when she saw the fire seal.

"No, it's about you, my dear."

Katara stared at the scroll dubiously. The last thing she wanted to do was make some decision about the war, or take up the political mantle her father had left behind, or god forbid leave her tent. The quivering hands of her grandmother also threw her off dramatically. She reached over and took the scroll in her own shaking fingers.

"The elders haven't discussed it yet," said her grandmother quietly. "We don't really know what to do. I think, ultimately, the decision should be yours, but I'm not sure that that's how it's going to be, considering the consequences."

With every word, Katara wanted to read the letter less and less. But her hands mechanically unrolled it anyways.

'_Princess Katara_,'

"No, nope! No way am I finishing this!" Katara snapped the scroll shut, feeling nothing but hollow anger. Why couldn't she just be left alone? The last thing she wanted to deal with right now was political ass kissing. Her hand trembled around the scroll, angry tears at the edge of her eyelashes. She didn't realize that her breath was coming in intense huffs until she felt a soft hand at her back. The anger seemed to ebb from her limbs then, leaving her with cold sadness again. She turned to face her grandmother, who looked shockingly upset.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "You have to read it."

Katara stared at the old woman for a few seconds before slowly unrolling the wretched thing again.

_'Princess Katara,_

_It is in the spirit of faith, unity, and new life that I offer a bond between our two nations. In light of the war, significant political change is necessary in order to overcome the economic difficulty that has ravaged the Water Tribes._

_This bond will be in the form of the marriage between Prince Zuko and Princess Katara._

_In no way does this offer suggest the subordination of the Water Tribe. But the stipulations that accompany it are entirely necessary. The Southern Water Tribe must disband what remains of its military. It must construct facilities worthy of the royal family, which will house the wedded couple after its opening. The princess must spend four months of the year at the Fire Nation capitol, after her initial stay during the construction of the Southern Water Tribe palace._

_In return, the Southern Water Tribe will be politically and economically supported by the Fire Nation. _

_However, should you reject this offer, we will not guarantee the safety of the Southern villages, nor its leader, who is currently a captive of the Fire Nation._

_We look forward to seeing you at our Capitol._

_Sincerest Regards,_

_Fire Lord Ozai'_

Katara sat very still. She reread the letter slowly, taking in each sentence one at a time. Her grandmother cried quietly beside her. "This isn't a marriage proposal, it's a hostage negotiation," snarled Katara angrily. "It's blackmail."

"They want the subordination of our Tribe," whispered Gran-gran. "The war is ending; we've gained the full attention of the Fire Nation now. Katara...ultimately, this decision should be yours."

"But it isn't, is it."

"I'm so sorry."


	2. Free Shipping

Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar

* * *

It had been more of a send off than Katara could have asked for. Everybody showed up with gifts and tearful goodbyes. The Southern Tribe was so poor that Katara had forgotten about her noble blood. But she looked nothing less than a princess as she boarded the small ship, one of the last that remained at their port.

She wore her mother's dress, a lovely pale blue silk that fell in heavy folds around her. A white polar bear dog skin plumed from her shoulders, reaching the floor and then some. White snowflowers set off her brown hair, gifts from the children of the tribe. Her wrists, neck, everything was decked in flowers. Lastly, at her neck hung her mother's silver and blue necklace.

She should have written to Sokka. She should have holed up inside of her tents and refused to let the council of elders make the decision for her. She should have hung herself, rather than humiliate the Water nation like this.

But here she was, being shipped off to the city that she wanted to see least in the world.

She wouldn't cry. Her makeup was pristine, in the cold white and blue of her nation's colors. Her one demand before she had left, was to have her face painted like a Water Tribe warrior's. It was almost ghastly in appearance, but she wasn't going for shy and elegant beauty.

She had stripped off the dress, put the flowers into baskets, washed off the makeup. For weeks she meditated in her room, hardly eating or sleeping. She would meditate, sleep, or waterbend in preparation for the upcoming events. They were putting an awful lot of trust into Ozai's word, but with the state of the war, what other choice did they have? Resistance meant extermination. The presence of the village was tolerated because of its weakness; Katara knew.

The days passed without word from Sokka, her father, or home. Katara felt abandoned, left with only her thoughts to torture herself with. She should have fought the council, but she just didn't have the heart to fight the Fire Nation anymore. Not when she knew they had her father. Especially not with Sokka already in danger. And not when she'd been stripped of all hope and will.

So she meditated, gathered her strength. She wanted to face these monsters with all the icy chill of the South. She wouldn't let them break her; that was all she could offer, in memory of Aang and her detroyed villages.

"Princess, we're here." For whatever reason, a small handful of girls had elected to come with her and serve her in the palace. Probably to try and land some noble husband in the powerful nation capitol. Katara scoffed to herself. In the face of destruction, these girls still flocked to their bitter enemies. She stood, dressed simply in her underclothes.

Silently the girls began to dress her. Katara hadn't bothered learning their names; she didn't know them, couldn't trust them. She couldn't afford friends here. They laced up the heavy blue and white dress, carefully painted her face, fastened the silver at her wrists and neck. '_Like a collar._'

Horns and flutes announced their arrival, met with the answering drums. The combined sound send shivers down her spine.

She walked up the stairs to the deck, surprised by the heat. Every breath she took burned her throat, her eyes and nose. Capital City. The economic center of the Fire Nation, and the home of the royal family. She could see the palace from the harbor, but it looked like everybody was here for her arrival. She stared coldly down at the curious, hesitantly cheerful citizens.

"Princess."

Her blood ran cold in her veins. Katara's eyes narrowed as she met the cool gaze of the Fire Lord, surrounded by all the pomp and prestige she would have expected. There were royal guards on every corner, an entire battalion dedicated to the protection of the royal family. '_As though we would launch an attack? We brought one ship. The Avatar is dead. The world is too stunned to launch an attack on the royal family so soon. Well played, Fire Lord._'

"Fire Lord Ozai."

"We welcome your return to our humble city." Katara felt her stomach clench at the smug, dulcet tone in his voice. She felt her teeth bare in a gruesome mockery of a smile. "So charming. You've met my son, Prince Zuko, and my daughter, the crown princess."

'_Well, that's new._' Katara took a deep breath before turning to face the traitor. Her icy glare would have pinned anybody else, but he looked prepared for her reaction. He wore a sharp black and gold high-collar shirt, his hair grown out smooth and down to his shoulders. His face was guarded, on the defensive.

Aware of all the eyes on her, Katara approached him and gave him a polite embrace. The crowd was delighted, breaking into cheers and applause. But she was just close enough to whisper in his ear.

"You deserve worse than death," she snarled in his ear. To her surprise, he kissed her cheek. She drew back as though a snake had touched her. His grip suddenly tightened on her arms, and she was surprised at how strong he'd grown. She hadn't had a physical confrontation with him since...much longer than she'd thought. His leap forward in age and size concerned her.

"Good to see you too, Katara," he murmured back to her, just as quietly. And just like that, he released her. She was glad that she didn't stumble, because her new sister-in-law was next. Azula approached her with all the arrogance and superiority that Katara had predicted. Her embrace was poisonously sweet.

"Katara my dear, you look positively horrid," she sighed. "In the good way. Love the paint." And with a wicked smile, she disappeared back into the crowd.

"Princess, you should ride with the Prince. We're going back to the Palace now, where you'll have your proper reception." Katara nodded, throat dry. Her eyes quickly inventoried the transportation. Two carriages pulled by dragon moose, one for Lord Ozai and his advisors, one for Princess Azula and her guests. Her heart sank when Prince Zuko mounted a Komodo Rhino and held a hand out to her. Of course she'd be practically on top of him.

Though her skin crawled, she slipped her hand into his and stepped up using the rhino's hind leg to brace off of. It wouldn't do her any good to defy him in public view. If she wanted to represent the Water Tribes, she had to maintain her status as an equal in the public eye. But settling into the saddle behind him, placing a hand at his waist to steady herself...it was almost more than she could bear. He picked up the reins and began to guide the beast.

"Where is my father?" she murmured into Zuko's ear, too quietly to be heard by the cheering crowd. The small smile frozen on her mouth would disguise the nature of her words from anybody watching them. "One of the terms of our marriage is his safety. I demand his release, and return to the Water Tribe."

"You're not exactly in a position to be making demands," he replied softly, voice low. Katara shivered; she hadn't expected him to have gone so cold. "Don't worry. He'll be walking you down the aisle. But he's definitely not going back to the south." Her hands trembled at his waist, wishing she could ice him in the back, run forward and murder his entire family. But the numerous guards pretty much guaranteed that she wouldn't reach Ozai and Azula, and even if she did, Ozai had proven himself a more than worthy opponent.

"You can't keep my father in prison," she whispered, voice shakier than she'd intended. "If you intend to make any sort of amends with the Water Tribes." She ignored the fact that the Northern Water Tribe was pretty independent of its southern sister, and likely didn't care about the union between their nations.

"We don't," was Zuko's short reply. It was all Katara could do to keep the smile on her face. "We don't care about making amends. You're not even a ward, you're a war prize."

"_What_? Then why are we getting married?" she hissed, louder than she'd thought. Any shadow of a smile was gone. If she was here to be...if they'd brought her here to...she couldn't bear to think about it. War prizes weren't wives, they were concubines. She couldn't bear thinking about the humiliation she'd bring to her tribe if they forced her to be a slave.

"Well, _you're_ not the prize. Your claim is. The South has been eradicated, we're getting sort of a jump start on rebuilding the Nations under our command." Zuko didn't even turn his head as he spoke. Katara shook with anger, letting it fill the hollow grief where her friends had resided for so long.

"They'll never listen to you," she growled. "They're loyal people, they'll never bend to the Fire Nation."

"No, but they'll listen to _us_. What choice do they have but to obey their princess?" His voice wasn't quite smug, but it was dangerously close. Her hand tightened on his side.

"They'll listen to _me_, and there's no way I'll let you take over control of the tribes. You can't just train me like a polar dog to do whatever you say." For the first time since they'd mounted the komodo rhino, Zuko turned, his hand whipping out to catch her face in his strong grip. Katara gasped, half expecting him to ignite his hand. But he merely held her face, a gesture that could almost look like a caress if his fingers weren't so tight in her hair.

"But what do you think you're here for?"

He stared her down for a few moments, with those burning golden eyes, before finally releasing her. Katara's breath came in gasps as she fought to keep her seat. Tears trembled at the corners of her eyes, but she fought them with all her might. She refused to let him make her cry. She couldn't steady her voice though. "_Why_, Zuko?"

He was silent.

"Why did you betray us, when we _needed_ you?"

"I couldn't watch him kill my father," Zuko said quietly. "The Avatar will be reborn. My family and my country will not."

"How _noble_ of you." Her voice dripped with disgust. "Kill the world's hope, and take a trophy. I should have guessed you'd stab us in the back." Zuko turned and shot her a scathing look.

"You're in my world now, waterbender. You can make this hard on yourself, or you can make it easy. I don't care either way. You weren't brought here so we could be friends again."

"_You_ didn't bring me here, I decided to come." Not necessarily true, but better than to admit that the council of elders had sold her off like a slave. They were no better than the royal family. There couldn't be a better time to stand against the Fire Nation, to martyr themselves for the greater good and bring defiance back to the world. But instead they chose the cowardly way out, the path of least resistance.

Could she blame them though? It wasn't as though she'd come home to rally the forces after what had happened here not so long ago. She'd given up too, wanting nothing more than to remove herself from the war entirely. And the desire to just give in, to submit to the will of the stronger nation, was too strong in her mind. The tolls taken by other nations due to Sozin's comet were catastrophic; with the firebenders at more than double their normal strength, nearly all of the Northern Water Tribe had fallen. They were enduring a siege even as she rode to the Capital City palace. The Earth Kingdom had lost some major ground in cities. Ba Sing Se was already under Fire Nation control, with the rebellion army weakening by the day.

"My brother," she said quietly. Her father was safe, but Sokka...if she lost him, she didn't know if she could hold herself together. "Zuko please...Sokka..."

"I can't guarantee his safety," he replied, so softly that Katara almost didn't hear him. "But if he's captured, he'll be treated like the Prince of the Southern Water Tribe." Katara's breath rushed out, and she bowed her head forward, almost touching Zuko's back. He could be a hostage, he could become a ward...but they wouldn't dare kill him. She could only hope that he made it through whatever fighting he was doing.

Katara didn't want to think about the war anymore. She looked hesitantly left and right, at the common people of the Fire Nation. They weren't so different from any other nation she'd seen. Many bore the physical characteristics typical of their land; the pale skin and black hair of the Fire Nation natives was telltale of their ethnicity. Their eyes were gradients of gold and black, their faces elegantly constructed. But, here and there she saw brown hair and green eyes, blue eyes, descended from a time when the nations were once at peace.

'_They're all just people,_' she thought sadly. '_No different from my own village._' They weren't exactly happy to see her, but they weren't violently angry about it either. Curious was the better word for it. But there! Hostility?

Katara was glad for her face paint. It was shocking enough that most of the citizens didn't quite know what to make of her. But she was getting quite a lot of unwarranted scowls from most of the women. She bristled slightly. It couldn't be her clothes. She definitely looked like a princess, it wasn't like she was wearing something scandalous.

Well...she _was_ about to marry the most eligible bachelor in the entire Fire Nation. She had to admit that Zuko had inherited some very handsome genes, despite the scar. He had grown tall and broad shouldered in his absence from the Fire Nation; his firebending training had shaped him into a man strong of body and mind. But she couldn't trust him, couldn't stand to be near him. How dare he turn his back on them, after everything they had gone through to get Aang to Capital City.

Finally, they arrived. Katara slid immediately from the giant beast's back, turning to eye the palace with grim acceptance. It was awful to be back so soon. She sighed as she heard her betrothed drop to the ground beside her.

"So when's the big day?" she asked dryly.

"More like night. And it's in about four hours."

Katara felt her skin crawl as she whipped around in surprise. "Tonight? It's _tonight_? But-but-but what about preparations? It's been two weeks since I got the letter!" Zuko looked...chagrined? Apparently he wasn't much more excited about the idea than her. But at least he'd had time to come to terms with it.

"We had anticipated a wise response from the Water Tribes," he said simply. "We knew they would send you. Better to sacrifice pride now than be exterminated like the Air Benders. Besides, they know that the war is coming to an end, and cooperation is better than rebellion right now."

Katara's eyes narrowed. Cooperation better than rebellion? That sounded about right. They were both cooperating with the dominant nation, weren't they...only he had the benefit of being native to it.

"Princess, please come with us. We're to assist you in your wedding preparation." The two girls bowed; young fire nation women by the looks of them. They were dressed in matching red uniforms with gold insignia on the breast. They must be household servants. Katara huffed in annoyance.

"I brought my own servants," she said, gesturing back to the five girls that had come with her from the south. Zuko touched the small of her back, and she recoiled instantly.

"The maids have been setting everything up for you, please go with them." She was surprised by the gentleness in his voice, but glared at him anyways before giving in and following the girls.

They led her in a winding path through the palace, which seemed so much larger than she had remembered. The halls were lavishly decorated, with tall ceilings and enormous red wall hangings. She passed halls that she remembered, halls that still bore marks from recent destruction. Katara closed her eyes, squeezing down feelings that she had been crushing for more than a month. She focused on deep breaths, like in her meditations. Finally opening her eyes, she elected to watch the floor instead.

They led her to an enormous chamber, where she sensed the presence of her native element. Katara sighed, looking around the large bathing room. There were many tubs, all embedded in the ground. Clear water rippled gently in each. Katara's fingers twitched; she could take this water, murder these girls before they even realized what had happened, escape.

Her fingers relaxed. She wasn't escaping anymore. She could kill these servants, but to what point? They weren't her enemies. They were just young girls. She allowed them to take the heavy white furs from her shoulders, to begin unlacing the white gown she wore, unbind her braids.

In the end, she was stripped down to nothing, her dark brown hair loose around her body. It fell almost to her waist now, in thick curls. The girls said nothing as they helped her step down into the water.

"Ah! It's cold!" she gasped, jerking back from the freezing water. One of the girls gasped as well, and bolted forward.

"I'm so sorry, Princess Katara! I completely forgot," she burst, dipping a hand into the water. Within moments, the water began to steam. Katara stared at the girl; she couldn't be more than eleven. How could she have even considered killing them?

She moved back into the now-warm water, sighing in pleasure. The younger girl began pouring fragrant soaps over her hair, melting most of the paint off of her face.

"Ohh, princess you're pretty," exclaimed the girl. She blushed when she realized her mistake. "I-I mean, you were pretty before too, it's just, the paint was so scary!"

"Hush Soza, it's not our place to talk." The older girl gave the younger a stern look. Katara guessed that they were sisters, their expressions were so similar. They shared dark amber eyes. Suddenly she couldn't bear the thought of silence.

"No, it's alright," she said, trying to smile. "I'd like to hear about you two. You can talk." She's rather listen to anything than think about what was about to happen. The young girls were more than happy to oblige her.

"My name is Tana, and this is my little sister Soza. We were born here in Capital City. We've lived here for our entire lives. Soza works in the kitchens, and I work in the gardens." The older girl was very matter-of-factly. Katara felt like she was probably very similar to her when she was young. "Our parents work here too, in the kitchen with Soza."

So, they couldn't be trusted then. Katara wasn't surprised. But she liked to imagine their simple lives. A safe home, a large family...she'd almost forgotten what it felt like to live in peace, surrounded by people who loved you.

"I like working in the kitchens," burst the younger sister. Her hair was lighter, almost a honey brown, a clear indication of Earth ancestry. "They let me eat cakes, and if I want to make rolls I can! And the prince used to come after his firebending training, because our mother makes the best applenut tea in the palace, and she'd make it for him every afternoon!"

"The prince and the princess are such good firebenders," sighed the older girl. "I wish we could train with them. I'm okay, and Soza is still learning...but it would be so nice to practice it more." Her eyes turned and lit up when they met Katara's. "You're a bender, right princess? Can you show us waterbending? I've never seen it."

Katara hesitated; was it a trick? She wasn't explicitly told not to waterbend, but maybe it was implied. But she scoffed to herself. As if she was expected to adhere to unspoken rules. She highly doubted that the Fire Lord would invade the Water Tribes because she showed some servants a few tricks.

With a flick of her wrist, she lifted a small stream of water. It flowed around the tub as the girls cried out in wonder.

"Beautiful!" cried the older girl, reaching out to touch it as it passed. Katara felt a natural smile tugging at her lips, for the first time since...

She dropped her hand. The stream fell back into the tub, to the dismay of the girls. "Are we supposed to be on a schedule?" They squeaked and started vigorously scrubbing her hair.

"Oh no! We have to get her to Hazina, quickly!" Katara rinsed out her hair with a flick of her wrist, rose from the tub, and expelled the water from her body with several quick motions. The girls gasped as she stepped from the tub, completely dry. "U-um..okay, this way princess!"

She was, there was no other way to describe it, shoved through a door in the side of the room. There waited six women, all in similar uniforms to the young girls. The house staff. The oldest was perhaps forty, with gray streaks in her elegant dark hair. Her eyes were a cold green.

"Touzin, Lin, Aya, begin with her hair. Zani, Arinza, help me get the dress." There was a flurry of motion; three women twisted and weaved her hair. She was annoyed, before she noticed that they were creating a complex braid, traditional of the Water Nation. The dress, carried carefully out by the remaining maids, was silver and deep blue, with the water insignia at the high white collar. The sleeves were long and billowing, white with dark blue embroidery.

Tana ran in again, handing something to one of the girls doing her hair with a whisper. Just as quickly, she dashed back out. Katara was confused until the girl (Touzin?) fastened it around her neck.

"It's beautiful, and it matches the dress too!" Her mother's necklace. She must not have noticed when one of the girls unfastened it. Her heart stuttered at the thought of almost losing it.

"You're a lucky woman, princess. Prince Zuko is quite a catch. I've known him since he was born, and I've never met a gentler, kinder, more courteous boy."

'_Maybe_ before _the war,_' thought Katara bitterly. But instead she managed to smile at the older woman. "Yes, I'm told."

Katara watched in the mirror as they twisted her hair in intricate swirls. They framed her dark face perfectly, bringing out her high cheekbones. One of the girls mixed paints in some bowls, preparing to do her makeup. She snuck a peek and was relieved that none of the shades were red or gold. It was all white and blue for her.

"Um...could I...do my own makeup?" she asked, reaching tentatively for the bowls. The girls exchanged looks before backing away a little.

"N-no offense, princess, but I don't think the royal family will be happy if you go to the wedding in war paint..."

"It's not going to be war paint," she promised. "It's...a traditional paint for Southern Water Tribe weddings. It's very different. Please, let me show you."

They slowly handed over the bowls, and Katara swirled the paint with her finger instead of the brushes. Water-based paints...perfect. That meant that she should be able to apply the design with no difficulty whatsoever.

She applied the white first, covering the from her lashes up to her eyebrows entirely. The dark blue paint went over it in thin, delicate lines, swirling in waves all the way out nearly to her ears, tendrils moving in whorls down to her cheekbones. The silver went over her lips; the colors symbolized the unity of moon and water into beauty. When she finished painting, the girls gaped at her, dumbfounded.

"It's...lovely, princess," whispered one of them. One by one, they silently resumed braiding her hair. She stared coldly at her reflection, wishing desperately to be anywhere else.

"Hair is done, Hazina," called one of the girls. Katara was lifted from the chair, and within minutes she was bundled tight into a corset. Six hands got her laced up more snugly than if she were in a straight jacket. As she struggled to breathe, they began stuffing her into the dress.

"You're lucky this is an international affair," commented Hazina blithely. "Otherwise you'd be in Fire Nation red and gold. These colors suit you better." Katara thought she would suffocate as they laced the heavy, heavy dress over the corset, but somehow she remained on her feet. She was in her wedding dress in mere minutes.

"W-why at night?" she gasped. "Why aren't we getting married during the day?" She didn't understand much of this culture, but it seemed odd to her. Firebenders loved the sun, why wouldn't they celebrate it during the time of day most suited to them? More importantly, she was starting to panic, and wished she'd had more time to come to terms with what was happening.

"It's not quite at night," said Touzin cheerfully. "It's at dusk. It's supposed to be representative of the joining of fire and water, the joining of day and night. I think it's a wonderful idea. It's going to be so beautiful!"

Katara was surprised. Why was everybody acting as though she was an actual princess? She was Chief Hakoda's daughter, but everybody knew that this wedding was a show of dominance, not a union of nations. Not that she complained, but it was definitely pretty strange.

"Now come on. You're ready to go, and everybody is here!"

...everybody?

"Did you grab Chief Hakoda, Aya?"

"No, I'll run and get him now."

Katara's breath stuck in her throat suddenly. Tears threatened to ruin her face paint as she prepared to face her father at her lowest point, prepared to marry the man that she would rather strangle with her bare hands.


	3. Strip the Sugar Queen

Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar nor any of the characters

New chapter, please read and review!

* * *

Katara felt her breath rush from her lungs as she was pushed through the door and down the halls, which were conspicuously empty of guards. Her nervousness had escalated into terror, and she was afraid she would sweat through her paints. She didn't want to emerge as a sloppy shame to her nation. If she was going to be a hostage, she was going to be a damn elegant one.

"Ladies?" her voice came out a bare whisper. None of them even hesitated, hurrying her down the enormous hallway. Much too enormous. Katara hated this ridiculous palace. She hated being in the Fire Nation, she hated these loyal servants, she hated everything that had brought her to this horrible, hot land in this stuffy dress.

She wished more than anything that Aang and Sokka were secretly here, that he had faked his death and they were planning a mad escape for her and their father that somehow solved everything. But, as horrible as she felt inside, a tiny tendril of delight bloomed at the thought of seeing her father again. She hadn't seen him for so long, and it was such a relief to know that he was safe, even though he was here too.

Her breath grew short as they rounded yet another corner. The corset certainly wasn't helping. But she almost fainted when they turned one more corner and suddenly, she was face to face with her father.

"Dad," she cried hoarsely, holding back tears. "I...I'm so sorry!" She flew forward and into his open arms.

"No, Katara, _I'm_ sorry," he murmured into her hair. He kissed her head gently, reverently. "You look beautiful. I'm so sorry I couldn't be a stronger father. I didn't want this to happen, but they told me if I didn't walk you down the aisle, I'd never see you again. And I couldn't let you do this by yourself."

"This is a disgrace to our nation," she whimpered. "Dad I-"

"It's okay. I know this wasn't your decision. But...I suspect it's one that you would have made anyways. You've never abandoned your nation, even when you left it. I know you would have done everything to protect it, and your family. I think it's time to cut our losses." Her lip trembled, but she held herself together.

"I love you dad. I'm so glad you're here." She clutched him tightly, wishing for time to freeze here. Wishing for the world to end. But it was fruitless. Much too soon they were ripped apart by her makeup team.

"Oh good, she's not smeared."

"Come, Chief Hakoda, it's time." They fastened the great white cloak at his neck before leading the pair of them through yet another hall. As they approached two great doors, Katara felt her breath failing her. She grabbed desperately for her father's arm, and was relieved to feel him strong and steady under her hands.

"Thank you daddy," she breathed. His free hand reached over to squeeze hers, and the double doors opened.

Initially, Katara was blinded. As her eyes adjusted, she could see the contrasting colors, and her heart stuttered at the sheer beauty. A stone path through the largest courtyard she'd ever seen, guests flocked on either side. Towering pillars with flowers she didn't recognize weaving around them on thick vines. Ice sculptures arched above the guests' heads, each carved in the depiction of her native fauna. Firebenders lined the path in front of the pillars, synchronizing incredible, spinning designs in flame.

And there, at the end of the path...

Katara swallowed a painful lump. '_I'm glad Aang never had to see this happen._' Abruptly, she remembered that she was a princess. She straightened, leaning less on her father, and began to walk.

At her first step, the choir burst into a lovely, keening song. It was children...a dozen singing children from the Fire Nation's national music school. Their notes rose and broke in waves around her, which she would typically be enchanted by, but today she was a shield of anger. It was hard to believe that she had stepped off the ship, unsuspecting, only hours before.

Step. Breath. Katara relaxed her hand slightly, releasing her father from the wrath of her freshly scrubbed nails.

Step. Breath. Golden lanterns with fire and water insignia floated above her. She felt as though she was moving underwater, with blurry stars somewhere overhead. But they were just lanterns.

Step. Step. Breath. Step. Her eyes moved over cheerful faces, with smiles plastered as though glued. Black hair and golden eyes everywhere. Her hands felt chilled and sweaty, but she felt the same plaster smile on her own mouth.

Step. Breath. Her frozen eyes landed on her betrothed, standing at the end of the path, dressed in handsome black, gold, and red. He was very still, eyes trained on her and expression sober. She noticed dimly that his hands trembled.

Step. She was much too close now. Close enough to see his guarded golden eyes, close enough to smell the fragrant lilies that adorned the altar. She felt her father's hand begin to move, and her nails dug back into his arm in sudden hysterical hope that they would begin to run.

"Dad, no," she mouthed silently, eyes beginning to tear. She didn't care if Zuko or the Fire Sage saw. She didn't care. Her eyes were locked with her father's, blue on blue. Apology was etched in every line of his face as he disentangled her arms. He didn't hand her to Zuko; he turned to the prince, and his expression changed dramatically to one of pure and unadulterated hostility. "You don't deserve this woman. No matter what you do, you will never be worthy of her."

He spoke loud enough to bring gasps from the entire front row of guests. Katara herself gasped as he turned and walked himself back down the aisle. An armed guard awaited him, and she watched him disappear from the courtyard.

Slowly, she turned back, but she couldn't yet meet Zuko's eyes. She stared at his collar instead.

"We gather here, on this glorious sunset, in order to celebrate the union of two nations."

A large goblet was brought to them, solid gold and inlaid with fabulous jewels. A long, luxurious red sash was wrapped around the handle, reaching nearly the floor. Zuko took it and held it out between them.

"We both hold it," he whispered. Katara almost snarled out loud, but instead she reached forward and took the other side.

"This union, in a time of war, is symbolic of the compassionate nature of our dear Fire Nation."

"Glad I'm being pity-married," muttered Katara, just loud enough for Zuko to hear her. He scowled at her, but didn't respond. Here it was. The public belittling of her tribe. This was exactly what she'd been waiting for.

"-and this merging of fire and water is reflected in the merging of night and day, the dusk in which this joyous pair-"

"You look beautiful." Katara looked up in shock, eyes as cold as ice. He didn't back down, meeting her glare with an even gaze. If only looks could kill. "We hold the cup for each other to drink from. Don't spill it on me."

"-through generations of nobility, and guarded carefully in the royal families. For the first time in over a century, a child of the Fire Nation's royal family will join blood with that of the Water Tribes."

"Shut up," snapped Katara viciously. "I'm not going to spill on your fancy suit."

"The lovers must share the sacred wine, pressed from grapes grown in the Volcanic gardens, spiced with dragon's breath, and aged beneath the palace. The red sash symbolizes the bond that they will share tonight, the bond between husband and wife."

A young girl emerged, dressed in all white. She smiled as she unraveled the red sash, and then fastened Katara's wrists tightly to Zuko's. His skin burned hot against hers.

She felt him lift the goblet, and she let him guide it to her mouth. It was filled nearly to the brim with the wine, and she managed to take a sip despite her tight throat. She gritted her teeth and began to raise the cup, but to her surprise he didn't let her.

"Look at me."

His voice startled her into looking up; she hadn't realized that she'd been staring at the cup the entire time. His eyes held the same burning expression that they had since she'd stepped off the boat. The Fire Sage seemed thrown off, as did the guests, but nobody interrupted him.

"I know you don't want to be here. I don't want to be here either. But we're here, and we're getting married, and we're going to accept that. Now, look me in the eyes and give me the damn wine." Katara could have laughed if she didn't feel so empty inside. Zuko was the last person on earth who could be her friend. She had no trust whatsoever in him.

But she held his eyes as she raised the cup to his lips. He drank deeply, and a gently downward tug on the goblet told her he was finished. They lowered it, and the young girl came back and took the cup from them. She then untied the sash, but then retied it so they were each bound by one wrist.

"The ceremonial sash will remain, until the bond is forged in flesh." Katara didn't like the sound of that at all. "I now declare the prince and the princess to be wedded under the blessing of the spirits."

Cheering rose from the enormous crowd of guests. Katara managed a thin smile as Zuko waved.

"So, we have to keep this on all night?" she asked him, wishing she knew more about the traditions. Zuko cleared his throat and blushed, to her surprise. But when he turned to her, he looked very serious.

"The, uh, ceremonial sash stays on until the...'bond of the flesh' is forged."

"Yes, that's _exactly what the sage said_, smart guy. What I mean is, does that mean what I think it means?" She couldn't believe that he couldn't meet her eyes. He was perfectly comfortable stabbing them all in the back, then pulling the old 'pillage and rape' trophy-hunting of the barbarian days, but he was completely shaken by the prospect of their first night together. Not that _she_ wasn't. But after all that had happened, she expected him to be better prepared.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"And how seriously is this dumb tradition upheld?"

"...disobedience to the tradition is considered to be deception and dishonor to the family."

"See, what I'm hearing is that we're about to be tied by the wrist _forever_."

"Katara-"

They were interrupted by the approach of the Fire Lord. Zuko dropped to his knee, and Katara probably would have gotten in some sort of trouble for not doing the same if he hadn't grabbed her wrist and dragged her down with him. She grumbled and made a mental note to kick him for it later.

"Prince Zuko, Princess Katara," said the Fire Lord, allowing them to stand. "What a beautiful ceremony. Welcome to our family." He clasped hands with both; Katara felt as though she'd just touched a living snake. But he was gone as quickly as he'd approached, clearly not wasting any more time with them. At least he spared her of enduring his presence. But she wasn't going to be that lucky for long.

"Sister," cooed Azula, embracing her. The guests were really beginning to line up now, to congratulate the new couple. "I can't wait to visit your igloo." She disappeared too, chasing after her friends. Katara held a special place in her heart for Azula, a cold little corner where she'd like to murder her.

"Katara, it's not-"

"Stop. We're not talking about this." Frankly, Katara was terrified. She'd never gone farther than kissing, had hardly even spared a thought for anything else. Traveling the world with the Avatar, it wasn't like she had time for boys. She'd always been more interested in waterbending. And now...

She glanced over at her new husband and shuddered. It wasn't that he was unattractive...really, many girls probably thought her very lucky. But she had just endured the humiliation of a forced wedding, and wasn't so sure that she could endure the barbaric 'taking of the prize,' so to speak. The man who directly influenced the downfall of the Avatar, and her best friend. The man who was keeping her father captive, her father, who would certainly know what was supposed to happen after the ceremonies.

She hugged and shook hands until the sun sank and the torches were all lit. People started to move from the courtyard, and Katara's heart dropped when Zuko pulled her after them. She resisted for a few seconds, until he turned back in surprise, then understanding.

"It's the wedding feast," he said. "Calm down." He looked annoyed. Katara couldn't help the relieved sigh that rushed out of her. He took the opportunity to tow her after the guests with him.

Everybody was seated in a second courtyard, this one with lovely high walls, but few other features. Tonight, though, it held an enormous tent, filled with tables and chairs. Zuko led Katara to the head table, where the royal family was sitting. It appeared her new father-in-law had returned, as well as Azula.

"Good evening, esteemed guests. We will finish off this lovely ceremony with a feast like none other. If the prince and princess could open the kitchens, please." Fire Lord Ozai turned and gave them an expectant look, as did all of the guests. Katara froze, completely clueless.

"Come here," said Zuko quietly. Katara turned to him, and with his free hand he rather firmly grasped her face, thumb against her cheek and fingers reaching all the way to the back of her neck. Probably a good call on his part; she instinctively jumped back at his touch, but he met her resistance with his own. Before she could struggle, or open her mouth to say anything, he leaned forward and gently, gently kissed her.

If she hadn't been so shocked, she would have thought to bite him. But he pulled back quickly, to the cheering and hooting of the guests. She flushed, wanting nothing more than to smack him, but apparently that was the signal for the feast to begin. All the servants rushed out with overflowing platters. Enormous joints of meat, hot loaves of honey bread, succulent pies, it all smelled incredible. If Katara wasn't so nervous, she would have been drooling.

Her gaze landed on the cups in front of her. Each golden cup would support a Water Tribe family for months, maybe years if it was actually solid. And she had four, each filled with a different color drink. Lifting the deep red, she sniffed tentatively. Spiced wine. Her nose wrinkled slightly at the sour smell, but she lifted it for a sip anyways.

Zuko was digging into the boar, probably filling his mouth so he didn't have to talk to any of the guests. Not too many people wanted to talk to Katara, despite they apparent joy in the wedding. She suspected that fewer people considered this a good match than the royal family was letting on. Whatever. She didn't care what a bunch of snobby Fire Nation nobles thought about her anyways. She took another gulp of the wine. She saw Zuko shoot her a look from the corner of her eye, but he didn't say anything. Not that she cared anyways. She took another gulp.

"So, my son tells me you're a master waterbender."

Katara tried not to move her face at all. The smug, superior voice...she wanted nothing more than to smash it in. The most evil man in the world. The man who had oppressed millions, would continue his tyranny over the world. The man who had killed Aang.

"Yes, I am," she said sullenly. The Fire Lord didn't comment on her tone. Why did she have to sit next to him?

"Interesting. Not that I will recognize any waterbending pups of yours."

Katara huffed, nearly rolling her eyes at Fire Lord Ozai. She took another gulp of wine. "Maybe you should have thought of that before you forced a waterbender to marry your son." She yelped as a hand snatched her wrist in a crushing grip.

"You don't speak to the Fire Lord like that," hissed Zuko, his fingers tightening on her arm. She fought to free it, but in sheer physical strength he outstripped her. "Show some respect. Or at the very least restraint." He loosened his grip on her, allowing Katara to yank her wrist free. She rubbed it with her free hand and glared at the prince.

A thousand angry, snarky retorts popped into her head, but Katara chose instead to take another gulp of the spice wine. Every sip went down smoother than the last, and apparently it was a better use for her mouth than talking.

"He's right, princess. Respect and restraint are the lessons you will learn here. My son learned them both at a young age. Don't force me to interfere, if I find your discipline lacking." That was a barely concealed threat if Katara had ever heard one. From Zuko's left side, she had an easy view of the dark scar across his face. How could she live here, in this place of fear and enemies? How did Zuko endure it? And why on earth did he want to come back to it?

The music changed, and everybody fell silent. The torches were put out, except for those that lined the stage that had been set up at the far end of the courtyard.

The music changed suddenly. The children fell silent, and a slow, sensual drumbeat began to play.

Katara knew that the Fire Nation culture was very different in regards to sexuality. It wasn't something that she liked to think about. But, when seven scantily clad girls mounted the stage, it was suddenly at the forefront of her mind. Blood burned in her ears and cheeks, and she almost choked on her goblet.

Gauzy strips of cloth were slung from their cheekbones, not quite hiding their smiles. The same translucent material hung loosely at their hips, revealing clear outlines of their slender legs. On the crest of each girl's forehead was a ceremonial headdress, red feathers arching all the way down past their backs. When their hips began to move with the beating of the drums, Katara was suddenly very, very interested in her drink.

She sneaked a glance over at Zuko, who was watching with mild interest. Katara had never felt...inadequate before, but if this didn't excite her new husband, then what chance would she ever have had? He was accustomed to an open society. She had never seen anything like this, and not only because they wore thick furs all the time.

Well, he could watch the dancers all he wanted. She crossed her arms, staring down at the seated guests instead. She didn't care what he expected from her. She didn't marry him to fulfill anybody's carnal desires. Pervert.

After what seemed an eternity, the music ended. The guests clapped politely, as did the royal family. Katara didn't humor them this time. The lights on the stage were extinguished just as the torches around the clearest part of the courtyard lit. Silence fell, before a new drumbeat started.

This one was like...a heartbeat. Another instrument joined, the sweet plucking music of a mandolin. This tune was very different, almost seemed to call to her. Katara felt Zuko stand, his wrist still bound to hers. He took her hand and drew her reluctantly to her feet. '_The dance between the bride and the groom._' Katara gave Zuko a very dark look.

"I'm not dancing like that," she murmured angrily. The music continued, but she liked it considerably less now.

"You don't have to," Zuko responded, rolling his eyes. "Would you stop fighting me? I'm trying to help you." Katara stopped, throwing off his balance and yanking him backwards by their connected wrists.

"_Don't_ say that," she snapped furiously. "This is all your fault. We'll never be friends. I'll _never_ forgive you." She clenched her fists, her rage boiling over. Wasn't it enough, for her to endure this humiliating affair? Why did she have to _participate_? But after a few moments of shaking fury, it simmered down to a controllable level. She stood very still, breathing hard, and finally gave Zuko her hand. She wasn't doing this for herself, she had to say in her head. This was for the guaranteed safety of her people. She would do almost anything to keep her family safe.

She didn't know any traditional Fire Nation dances. All she knew were her own, and though she was considered to be one of the most graceful dancers in her tribe, she certainly didn't feel graceful here. Everybody's eyes were on her, every stare hard and judgmental. She took a deep breath, trying to find her feet beneath her.

Zuko stepped forward. She instinctively stepped back. His right hand rested comfortably at her waist, his left holding hers at their bound wrists. He began to step with the music, easing her into the unfamiliar dance. She tried to be a good mirror, but the motions were unfamiliar to her. Finally, with a frustrated cry, she tripped over one of his feet, landing clumsily on the floor.

Restrained chuckles erupted as he helped her back onto her feet. Katara would have cried if she didn't have to be a princess right now. Regardless, she couldn't hide the distress that distorted her features.

"Come on," said Zuko quietly, as though he didn't hear their audience. "Just follow my lead."

The drums beat faithfully for them. Katara looked slowly up at her partner, the red fading from her vision. She didn't know why she trusted him just then. She didn't know why she got back up to try again at all. She definitely didn't know why this bothered her so much. But she nodded almost against her will, resting her right hand in his.

He began the dance again, sliding his foot forward and then the other back behind him, turning them quickly. Katara stumbled again, but kept her footing. Why was this so hard? The laughter became louder, and her cheeks burned red.

"Be flexible," he whispered to her. "Like a flame."

It hit Katara like a flying bison. _Firebending_! She didn't know how to do it, because the dance was a shadow, an echo of the core of the entire nation. It wasn't her dance. She'd never be able to do this dance. She didn't have the faintest knack for firebending, and she never would.

But she'd fought with Zuko before. She'd contested his fire with her water, she knew how to counter his every attack, how to drive him back. Her hand tightened on his shoulder, causing him to raise an eyebrow, but she actually let a confident smirk slip.

He stepped towards her again, but this time she took her own lead. She evaded the step, taking a swirling leap around him, their bound wrists her pivoting point. Zuko instinctively grabbed her wrist and maintained the leap, carrying her to his other side. Katara didn't let him keep her there, spinning away from him again. He caught on then, recognizing the battle rhythm between them.

Katara felt her breath leave her as she danced, as she spun and swayed like a true waterbender. Her dress, though heavy, swirled magnificently around her, flowed like the current through the sea. The drums grew louder and louder as they danced, each step faster and more violent than the last. It was frighteningly real, reminiscent of their past. She could almost feel the heat of his fists.

Finally, she saw him dip, knowing that he was going to knock her feet out. With the agility of a polar leopard, she backflipped over him, turning as though to flee, but yanked back by the cursed red sash. The resistance was much stronger than she had expected, and she flew backwards and straight into the arms of a very breathless Zuko.

He wasn't the only one breathless. Absolute silence filled the courtyard as the drums stopped, and Katara slowly realized where she was and what was happening. She stood, disentangling herself from the equally thrown off prince. To her surprise, enthusiastic cheering broke out among the guests, excited applause filling in the silence.

The drums picked up a new beat, and the attention was off of them; everybody joined the clearing to dance. Though it was crowded and she was surrounded by nobility, Katara had never felt more alone with anybody than she felt with Zuko.

They danced together in silence now, a tame, swaying dance that was more thoughtless motion than anything else. Zuko seemed at a loss for what to say. Katara was glad for the quiet. She didn't want to talk to him anyways; she'd rather have nothing to do with him whatsoever. But she was getting pretty much the exact opposite of that.

She did notice something over Zuko's shoulder though. A girl, a little bit older than her, was shooting hateful looks at her from across the room. Katara had seen the sneers from young noble girls all night, but this one was a bit different. She looked like she was trying to burn her from across the room. Katara recognized her too; it was that mopey girl that Azula used to fight alongside.

Katara scowled back at her. It wasn't like this was her choice!

"Stop glaring at people over my shoulder."

Katara snorted, her attention drawn back to the man she danced with. "I'm not."

"Yes, you are. I keep getting their dirty looks whenever we turn." He looked mildly annoyed again. Was _he_ annoyed with _her_? The nerve of him! She stomped on his foot. "_Ouch_! Why did you do that!?"

"That's for not warning me about all of this ostrich-horse shit when you had the chance," she said irritably. "I'll get you for betraying the Avatar and contributing to the downfall of every other nation in the world later."

"Alright, alright, point taken. You hate me. I wouldn't expect you to understand my life anyways."

"Yeah, because you're life is just _so difficult,_" laughed Katara. "Prince of the strongest nation in the world, living in a palace where everybody just loves you, in your home nation..."

He didn't respond, merely adjusted his step with the change of song. From the heat coming off of him, it seemed she'd pushed his temper a little bit too far. Katara wasn't afraid of him; she knew that as long as there was a single cup of water nearby, she could take him. Regardless, he was right about one thing. There was just no use making things more difficult for herself.

"Look, about tonight," began Zuko hesitantly. Katara glowered at him, but waited for him to finish. He exhaled in relief, continuing. "I know you don't know a lot about our culture. I don't know very much about Water tribe culture. But the marriage ceremony is the most sacred one we have, and it's not just acting out traditions for us. The bond is considered a seal from the spirits."

"I...I understand," whispered Katara. She hated to say it, absolutely despised it, but deep down she did know what he was saying. If she was marrying anybody else, it would probably have been a beautiful, earth moving ceremony. He probably grew up expecting that. She did too. The Water Tribes also considered marriage to be a transcendence of the soul.

"I'm sorry. This isn't easy for me either," he said quietly. Katara hadn't noticed how close they were until then; she was suddenly all too aware of her chest brushing his. Well, probably more like his ribs. He'd gotten taller too; she barely reached his chin now. "I...I won't touch you again. After tonight. I promise."

Katara shuddered. The subtle motion didn't escape Zuko, and he drew back slightly. He knew she had every right to hate him, but that didn't make it sting less. Did she truly find him so repulsive?

It was too late anyways. He'd had to get that deal out in the open, because just as they fell into contemplative quiet, the drumbeat changed again, and he recognized the throbbing beat with grim acceptance.

"Come on," he said. Katara's hands tightened on his, and he pitied her for the next tradition. "This one isn't going to be fun for you."

Katara didn't like the sound of that. This entire wedding hadn't been fun for her, and he certainly didn't give her any warnings then. To her surprise, he bent down and began to remove her shoes.

Besides having sensitive feet, that one wasn't terrible. She jerked her small, bare feet out of his hands as each shoe came off. The guests cheered, even though she barely showed more than her ankle for the entire process.

"I don't get it," she said nervously. "They're just shoes."

"...the bride and the groom lose something for each doorway they cross," said Zuko, on one knee with his head still bowed. Katara felt the blood drain from her face. "Here, take my cuffs off."

Katara obediently unbuttoned the golden links, dropping them into the grass. "Do we have to do each _other_?" Even though she'd pretty much agreed to let him bed her, she couldn't stop the shaking in her voice.

"Yep." He scooped her up into his arms, crossing the first doorway. The guests followed them, screaming suggestions as to what to get next. Katara didn't like the idea of _any_ of them.

The next doorway was to the main hall. It was a grand arch, and beyond it were the twisting stairs. It couldn't possibly be that many doorways...right? He reached up and began to unwind her braids, pulling the ties from her hair. It fell loose around her. She knelt and got his shoes, leaving him in black silk socks.

"Come on, you guys are boring," called Azula from somewhere behind them. "_Strip_ that sugar queen!"

He picked her up again, carrying her easily through the grand hall and up the stairs. Another arch at the top, and they were running out of modest things to remove. She got his socks, he took her bracelets. She would rather be entirely naked before she let him take the necklace though.

More stairs; how far up did he live? Her weight didn't seem to bother him, anyways, even with the dress on. She was getting lighter by the floor though. There was an arch above every staircase.

"This is the worst tradition ever," she muttered, barely making herself heard over the chatting and laughing of the crowd following them. The floating feeling she'd gotten from drinking all that spiced wine was almost gone; she was much too sober to deal with this now. He took the white lace shawl she'd been given from her shoulders. Blushing, she began to unbutton his shirt, revealing the smooth, pale skin underneath. She pursed her lips and continued with unsteady hands. It wasn't easy, being tied together, but she managed. She pulled it most of the way off, but it was trapped on his arm due to the sash. He reached over and ripped it off.

"Doesn't matter. I don't need it anymore." He picked her up and continued. "Only one more door."

Katara only had one more thing to lose, and she really began to panic when she remembered what she was wearing beneath it. Her heart began to pound faster, blood rushing painfully through her whole body. Zuko didn't miss her increased stress, but he didn't comment on it.

They reached a set of tall doors, carved from dark wood and decorated with delicate gold. The crowd of guests following them had grown more and more drunk and rowdy. It somehow made it that much worse for her.

"Um...here, turn around," he said awkwardly, not quite touching her. She turned stiffly, feeling his fingers deftly unlacing her heavy dress. Her heart felt like it would pound out of her chest. She felt tears burn at her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Her pride wasn't so wounded yet.

Well, it wasn't. Then the dress just dropped to the ground, surprising both of them, and she was standing there in little but a tight corset. Katara gasped in surprise, moving instinctively to cover herself.

The catcalls of the noble men and ladies was what did her in. She could stand being laughed at, and being teased, but she couldn't bear being ogled like a common whore. She'd always been admired for her strength and bending prowess, and never had she wanted for people to admire her _this_ way. She tried desperately to hold herself together, but she could feel herself at the edge of her control, and slipping fast. As the catcalls increased in volume and creativity, tears began to leak. With a horrified gasp, she whipped around and ran into the room, anything to escape her horrific wedding night.

If they followed her, she didn't know what she would have done. But Zuko was the only one to follow her, and he locked the door behind himself, muffling the voices behind them. She tried as hard as she could to stop the tears, but it was as though a well had sprung inside of her for the first time in weeks. She collapsed onto the bed, feeling tired and humiliated and so damn _weak_!

She cried helplessly into the soft bed, curled up into herself. She cried for the family she left behind, for the father and country that she had surrendered, for the pride that she had strangled herself, for the anger and embarrassment that she had faced, for her airbending friend that she had lost forever. For her firebending friend that she had also lost.

She felt the bed move, felt Zuko draw her into his chest. Katara simply didn't have the will to fight him anymore. But he merely held her, waited for her to calm down. It was...surprisingly comforting. She accepted it, despite everything he had done. She let out all the anger and grief inside of her until she was too tired to even think, and slipped gratefully into the sweet blessing of sleep.

* * *

Please no nitpicking guys :( I'm sorry if I get stuff wrong...constructive criticism is appreciated though :)


	4. Spoons All Around

Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar nor any of its characters.

Here's the next chapter, hope you enjoy!

* * *

Katara woke in a hazy bliss. Wrapped up in thick blankets, she relished in the moment of warmth before she would have to begin her cold morning in the frozen landscape of her home.

Home. The place where she was entirely free, where she fished with her father and brother, where she carved designs in the canoes crafted by the workmen, where she spent her time teaching herself to waterbend...

But she wasn't home. With a rush of homesickness, Katara remembered where she was, and...what she had done?!

Jolting upright, Katara squeaked as she realized that the corset was gone. Her hands flew to cover herself indignantly. She wracked her brain for all memories of the night before, going through each event painstakingly. They had come to the room, she'd run in crying, and then...she fell asleep? But why was her corset gone? And the red sash!?

There was a movement from behind her, and the warmth was gone. Horrified, Katara realized why she had been so warm.

"Oh, you're awa-"

_SLAP_! Her hand moved before Katara gave it permission. She would probably have attacked him if she wasn't simultaneously covering herself. She might not be as strong as him, but she was a real athlete; the slap alone nearly knocked him off the bed.

"_What was that for?!_" snarled Zuko furiously. His hands had balled into fists, but Katara was pretty sure he wouldn't punch an exposed woman. Not when she couldn't at least defend herself.

"_Why am I naked?_ And why is the sash off?! And why are we in bed together?!" burst Katara, pulling the sheet up to cover herself better. Zuko turned anyways. Was he...blushing?

"First of all, you stopped breathing after you fell asleep. I freaked out until I realized it was the stupid corset, so I cut it off. Second, you slipped out of the sash when you ran into the room. Kind of scandalous, actually, but it's not a big deal. And third, this is actually _my_ bed. I'm not sleeping on the floor in my own room. I wasn't going to do anything anyways."

"Why were we _spooning_ then?!" growled Katara, flushing bright red.

"Because you take up all the space," whined Zuko, turning back to face her. "There wasn't a square foot on the bed I could occupy without touching you. I had to push you over." Katara grimaced. She'd always been a sprawler. Not yet willing to let go of her anger yet, she curled back into the bed.

"Well, find me something else to wear then."

She heard him sigh heavily before his weight lifted from the bed. Some steps, some drawers opening. He came back with a long, slim red shirt trimmed with gold.

"...this is yours," said Katara irritably. "Go get something from my room!"

"I can't leave the room," countered Zuko. "_We_ can't leave the room. Until...you know." Katara suddenly felt much too alone with him. She clenched the sheets tighter between her fingers.

"Oh."

"So, what are we going to do?" she whispered, anger nearly gone. She had much bigger things to worry about now than her dumb clothes. "Could we just, you know, _lie_?" Zuko scowled.

"We can't get away with that for long," he replied. "We're both stuck here until the palace in your tribe is finished. That's at least five months, probably more. And if you're not..._expecting_...before we leave, my father will get suspicious. He'll have you checked, and we'll _both_ be in trouble then." He stood beside the bed, arms crossed, his back to her. Katara saw the long shirt and gave in, picking it up and pulling it over her head. Better that than nothing. At least they could work this out dressed.

"But...we could wait, for a few weeks, couldn't we?" she asked, desperate for any way out of this. Maybe she could buy herself time? But to what point? She was used to trying to escape from trouble, from the years she spent with Aang and Sokka, but she'd walked into this knowing that there was no escaping anymore.

"Sure. But it's just ripping off the bandage now or later, if that's the case."

Katara felt so trapped. She knew that this technically wasn't his fault, but she couldn't help feeling resentful towards him, like he was tricking her. And it's not like he'd given her any reason to trust him.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "Could we wait? I don't think I can do it now." She crossed her arms, feeling less like the mighty waterbending master than usual, and more and more like a frightened girl. And that certainly didn't make her less defensive.

Zuko frowned. "If you know you're going to eventually, why not do it when it's part of a sacred ceremony?" Katara shrugged, not able to answer the question even to herself. "You really think you'll get over it in the next few weeks?"_  
_

She glared at him. Even though he technically had a point, she didn't like to hear it. It felt like...a very intimate betrayal. She knew about Aang's affection for her, knew how he watched her with puppy love eyes. And regardless of his affiliations, Zuko had always been Aang's rival. His strength had always challenged him, his endless pursuit tortured him, and now it was as though he was proving himself dominant in every way. Bringing down the Avatar, and stealing the girl he loved to 'ravage' in the palace. She felt so...so _guilty_.

"I can't," she said quietly. Her eyes lowered, hating herself for being so civil, for not standing up and fighting her way out of this. He should be on his knees, begging for her forgiveness for everything he'd done, and yet she was politely asking him not to violate her. A storm roiled inside of her, raging just beneath her careful control.

He was silent, his hands in his lap. He wore a soft silk nightrobe, hair loose to his shoulders. The red sash was in his hands, winding around around his fingers in gentle pools. It felt a lot more like a chain to her.

"Well, I don't think we'll get any blessings from the spirits if I rape my wife after our wedding," he said dryly. Katara looked up in surprised anger until she realized he was making a joke. Not a very good one. "If we get in trouble, I'm blaming you." She let out a relieved sigh, the ugly pressure rising from her chest.

"My father was right, you know," she said hatefully. She might not be a 'real' princess, but in no way did that make her less of a lady, and him less of a monster. "And we're not going to share a bed. You'll have to figure something else out."

"What? It's_ my bed_!"

"Well, I don't trust you."

"I told you I'm not going to do anything to you! Especially not while you're sleeping! That's awful."

"Wouldn't be the first time you went back on your word."

"_Don't_ make this about something else. I told you, you don't understand me. There's nothing I can do without turning my back on _somebody_."

There was a sound outside of the door, and Katara and Zuko both gasped before jumping back under the covers. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her close. She fought for a second, but relented when he began to talk.

"Alright, we're doing it your way, but it's got to be convincing." Reaching out from the bed, he grabbed a knife off of his side table. "The maids are going to come to take you to the baths and help you dress soon. Don't fight me, I know what I'm doing."

Katara's heart stopped when he unsheathed the dagger, but to her surprise he cut his own hand open. Hissing between his teeth, he suddenly reached beneath the blankets and shoved his hand between her legs.

"_Zuko_!" squeaked Katara, arching her back and grabbing his forearm frantically. His free hand lashed out and pushed her back down, but he eased his hand back out of the crushing grip her thighs had on him, only to squeeze it into a fist and drip more onto the sheets. "_What the fuck is wrong with you?!_"

"If you're going to fake it, you've got to be thorough," he said, pushing her to the side and wiping his bloodied hand on the sheets over where she lay. "I'm not getting banished again for something this stupid."

Katara suddenly remembered something that some of the older girls in her village had talked about, the bleeding that occurred during a deflowering. It had been so long ago, even before she'd begun traveling with Aang. It's not like she'd put much thought to it, anyways, during their time flying around the world. Why would she have remembered it now?

"You've...done this before?" she asked hesitantly. She hadn't been very sure what to expect, she sort of just assumed he was as new to this as she was. But the casual way they treated sexuality here...

"Yeah, a bit," he said evasively. He turned back over and rose from the bed, shaking the robe loose to keep it from getting bloody. He wore long black pants beneath it, in the same soft harem material that many of the Fire Nation clothes seemed designed in. Katara blushed when she saw his bare back, pale skin taut over rolling muscles. She quickly moved her eyes to the ground.

She heard him washing his hand in the next room. Looking down at the sheets, she paled at the sight of the drying blood. It was a scary amount of blood, enough that might actually worry her if he was anybody else.

"So...what's a bit?" she couldn't help asking. It didn't hurt to know exactly how far behind she was, she thought.

"Not that it's any of your business," he said sullenly from the other room, "but 'saving it' isn't much of a thing around here. And being a prince is about as popular with girls as you'd expect." So, short story, a lot. Katara quickly felt very, very inadequate.

"Well then what's the whole point of the 'bond of the flesh' thing if everybody's already bonded?!" exclaimed Katara, throwing up her hands in defeat. This whole nation was stupid.

"It's different, I guess. It doesn't really mean anything until you're married. The bond of the flesh is supposed to mirror the commitment and devotion of marriage. You don't ever remarry. So it's...more like the beginning of your lives together, and less of any sort of loss." Katara felt a strange twinge in her stomach at the way he talked about it. This was clearly a commitment that he knew and understood...and he had walked into it knowing that he would never be able to marry anybody else.

What a fool.

There was a knock at the door. Zuko whipped around to face her, mild panic in his eyes.

"Is it dry?" he asked, rushing over. Katara shot him a dangerous look when he got too close, lifting the sheet herself to look. The blood on her legs had dried into a brown, flaky layer; the sheets weren't quite ready yet though.

"It's dry on my legs, but not the sheets," she reported, dropping the blanket again. He jumped back under the covers with her, pulling her down with him.

"Good enough. Stay quiet."

The door just opened as she closed her eyes, and she heard light footsteps enter the room.

"Princess?"

She sat up slowly, brushing Zuko's arm off of her. She didn't need to try very hard to look like she had a rough night; her hair was a disaster from the restless tossing she'd done in her sleep.

"Are you ready for your bath?"

She rose from the bed, grateful that the shirt fell low enough to hide her thighs, even if the blood wasn't hers. The young maid escorted her from the room, and Katara felt a brief, mysterious pang of guilt as she crossed the threshold. But it faded quickly, and she continued following the maid through the massive hall.

* * *

Zuko groaned deeply into the pillow after he heard the door shut behind her.

Leave it to his father to marry him to somebody who hated his guts. He knew she would rather kill him in his sleep than let him touch her, and it wasn't like he'd ever been particularly interested in her before anyways.

But he had to admit, the kicker was how absolutely beautiful she had become. Even when she showed up in war paint, the raw ferocity of it was enough to shake his initial disdain for her. And her quiet inner strength...her devotion to her tribe and family...she was everything he had ever wanted to be himself. When she'd stepped out of the arches at their wedding, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her, the lovely barbarian girl that despised him.

Once she'd started crying though, he felt every ounce of hostility towards her drain out of him. It exhausted him to hear her cry like that. And, when they woke up, it was as though everything had returned to the way it was before. The magic was gone from the night before, and his new wife was puffy-faced, her hair in knots. She was a shadow of the glorious vision she'd been at their wedding. He had hoped that they could hate each other in mutual safety.

But then he'd gone and ruined it with his own hands. Literally. What had started out as a good intention had pretty much immediately twisted into something much larger and darker than he had anticipated. He didn't expect her to arch like that, wasn't ready for the inside of her thighs to be so soft. And his fingers had brushed her thin white underwear, the heat from her more intense than any fire he'd held before.

The effect on his body was almost instant. He felt all the blood drain from his body and spiral sensually low, much too hot and tempting. Clenching his fist, he fought to control himself, tried to think about anything but climbing over her and claiming her.

Unable to focus when she was so close, he quickly stood and left bedroom, using the excuse to wash his hands in his private bathroom. Once he was far enough, he took a couple of deep breaths and managed to get a grip on his wandering thoughts. What was _wrong_ with him? He'd never intended to marry her against her will, had hoped he would never see the Avatar's friends again. He had hoped to never be faced with what he'd done.

But leave it to the spirits to string him high and dry for what he'd done. Now he had to see the hatred and disgust in her eyes every single day, know every day that he killed the boy she had loved. That he _was_ a monster.

"All I ever wanted was to win back my family..." Zuko sat back in his bed, legs bent and head bowed. Azula was more than willing to be his lovely sister again, once he confided in her that he had no intentions for the throne. His father was eternally grateful for the assistance he had provided during the final confrontation, and had recognized Zuko as his loyal son once more. And maybe...maybe now that they were a happy family again...maybe his mother would finally return.

And maybe Iroh would ask forgiveness for his treason, and rejoin the royal family. Punishment didn't work the same for the royalty as it did for everybody else. If he appealed to Ozai, he could easily be pardoned.

Zuko dropped his head into his hands. Iroh would _never_ appeal to his brother. He hated them as much as Katara did.

"Why do I always feel like I made the wrong choice?" growled Zuko, pulling on his short hair. "I hunted the Avatar, nobody liked me...so I left the Fire Nation, and everybody _still hated me. _So I came back, and Uncle Iroh hated me, so I left, Fire Nation hates me again, come back and _now my wife hates me_." He was scarred with more than fire; he was always a traitor. No matter what he did.

But, he had chosen the path that had always called to him. He had chosen to return to the support of his family. He had grown strong with the Avatar, had even befriended him, but when he saw him in the Avatar state, ready to kill his father...

He shuddered at the memory.

He had made his choice, and now his father was forcing him to live with the consequences of it. Ironically, he probably believed his son to be happy about the arrangement. That was the kind of thing that would make Fire Lord Ozai happy maybe...defeating his enemy and stripping him of everything he loved. But Zuko wanted nothing more than to forget that the last six years had ever happened.

Fat chance of that now, with her in the picture. Maybe Mai would strangle her in her sleep, and he could finally live in peace with his family. Zuko shook his head. He really missed Mai; she might have been dark and moody, but she listened, and she honestly cared about him. She was beautiful, elegant, and well bred. She was one of his childhood friends, a pleasant connection to the past. And now he didn't even get to keep her. Her love for him was tainted by her anger; she was too busy despising Katara. Not that he blamed her.

Maybe it was time to work on his firebending again. He stood and stretched, wanting to think about something besides girls. Now that he and Azula had made amends, she was helping him with his lightning bending technique. He knew he could successfully channel it, and he was getting much better at producing and controlling it. Soon enough, he'd be combat ready with lightning bending.

Feeling better about his morning, he left the room.

* * *

Katara winced as the servants brutally scrubbed at her thighs. She had initially been embarrassed about the blood, but that was quickly overshadowed by pain at their less than gentle treatment.

"Gosh, that's a lot of blood!" chirped one of the girls cheerfully. She wrung Katara's hair out like a rope. Katara grimaced at the painful twisting. "Must have been awful!"

"Hush, Zya. That's not appropriate to discuss." The older woman scrubbing viciously at Katara's already red skin seemed to be some sort of head maid. She wouldn't be surprised if she was in charge of making sure Katara was 'doing her duty.' Old hag. Katara could drown her with less water than was in this tub. But she had to act like a princess now, or risk matching Zuko's face apparently. She might be a waterbending master, but her confidence had shattered when even the Avatar couldn't defeat Ozai.

"Ow.._ow_! Could I dress -ow- myself?" asked Katara, just wanting to be alone for a while. She didn't know where the servants had brought her belongings, but she dearly hoped she would get her own room.

"Of course not. It's not proper. And besides, you won't be able to lace up the new dresses anyways."

"New dresses?"

"Oh yes. If you're going to be married to the Fire Nation prince, you must look the part at all times. And your..._quaint_ little wardrobe wasn't good enough. So you were given an allowance for a new one. Don't worry, they're all extremely lovely." She seemed so satisfied, taking everything Katara had brought with her and using it to mock her.

"What did you do with my things?!" burst Katara, the water rippling around her. The woman glanced down at it, looking more annoyed than afraid. She had the audacity to slap Katara on the side of her head, like she was disciplining a child, or a pet.

"No waterbending, princess," she said sharply. Katara sputtered in rage, her vision going red. "Or do you want me to tell the Fire Lord how uncooperative you're being?" Katara's breathing was ragged with anger. But it ebbed away from her again, like the easing tide. How often she forgot that she was here to protect the family she loved. "Your trinkets have been stored on the bottom floor of the palace, by the kitchens. They'll go back with you when you return to the south."

Katara didn't respond. But she made a mental note to go and find them later.

They pulled her from the tub, patting her dry with towels. Katara didn't bother waterbending herself dry; clearly this woman would not be amused by that. She was then wrapped snugly in the towel, and brought to an expansive adjoining closet filled with a variety of dresses. To her surprise, they were primarily blue and white.

"I get to wear my colors?" she asked in surprise as they began tying an exquisite white dress trimmed in deep sea blue around her. It really was lovely, and very light. But the laces restricted her motion, as did the tapering folds. There was not going to be much bending in this dress.

"Of course. No point traipsing you around in red. You're no Fire Nation girl."

Katara scowled. This woman really seemed to dislike her, as well as her culture. To these royal servants, she might seem to be a barbarian, but she considered herself much more of a down to earth girl. She knew how to catch her own food, gut it, cook it, and eat it. What was the shame in that? Why was it so shameful for her to have skinned the polar leopard that adorned the collar of her favorite dress?

There was just nothing she had in common with these snotty, superior Fire Nation people. She wanted nothing more than to 'accidentally' rip the fancy new dress, but that would mean having to endure their company for even longer as they dressed her all over again. As they applied the finishing touches, ceramic jewelry that set off her brown skin nicely, she began easing towards the door.

"So...can I go now?" she asked miserably. The old woman pursed her lips, but nodded. Katara practically ran out the door.

Finally! Clean and dressed, she began to wander down towards the kitchens.

* * *

Zuko took another deep breath, preparing his body for the next set.

He was training alone this morning. Azula was still asleep, and he didn't feel like dealing with her grumpy morning attitude. She wasn't much of an early riser. He, on the other hand, had always risen with the sun. And anyways, he still had to perfect the last move he'd studied.

It was very similar to one of the first he'd mastered firebending. This one, however, was much more difficult to control. Lightning was so much less predictable than fire. It was wilder, more destructive. Fire was difficult to control until you learned not to fear it; lightning required you to not only lose fear, but to _dominate_ it. No wonder Azula was such a good lightningbender. She had the urge to dominate everything that stumbled across her path.

He reset, spreading his feet shoulder width and raising his hands. Opening one, he summoned the raw energy. A crackle, and he sparked the white hot electric energy. Moving his hand in a smooth arc over his head, he focused on feeding just enough of the energy to let it become a long tail, trailing behind the burning hot core, but not so wildly that it touched him.

He let the tail extend, continuing the arc until he circled his hand back to the other, passing off the crazy energy. With his opposite hand, he extinguished it, drawing the original hand back to his side in a fist. His old master had called it the Rising Sun exercise, and he would warm up his training sessions with them. It was fitting; they focused the mind and relaxed the body, allowing for a smooth flow of energy.

But now it was time to release some of that energy. He set into his typical fighting stance, fists raised, steady stance. Feet apart and solid on the ground. Red fire began to burn at his fists.

* * *

Katara wandered through the halls, passing almost nobody as she walked. She couldn't get over how strange it was to walk around the palace unattended. But then again, the terms of this deal were very clear. They knew she wouldn't run away, and even she doubted that she could find anybody willing to help her bring down the Fire Lord now.

She was desperate to find her things though. She had scrolls, letters, parting gifts, remnants of her past...and right now, she needed nothing more than to remember that somebody somewhere loved her. The next thing to do was figure out where her father was. He was apparently somewhere in this palace, but Zuko had assured her that he was being treated like an honored guest. Even though she highly doubted that, it didn't hurt to try to believe it.

She wasn't sure when she'd see Zuko again, but that was definitely her priority with him.

Walking the halls though, she wasn't sure she'd ever find him again anyways. This palace was absurdly large; she hoped the one they were making in the south wasn't as ridiculous as this one. What was even the point of all these rooms?

All she knew was that the kitchen was on the lowest floor of the palace. And even though there were little, if any, guards now, she was sure that the kitchen was always staffed, and somebody would help her to find her belongings. She might not be a respected or even well-liked princess, but she was still Zuko's wife -_shudder_- and the Fire Lord's guest. Somebody would be willing to point her in the right direction, she knew.

But she didn't even know which floor she was on, let alone if it was the lowest one. Each hallway seemed to lead in to merely another hallway, or some enormous, useless room. Where were the staircases?! From the look of the view out the windows, she was on at least the third floor, with no apparent means of getting down.

A low thud. Katara turned around, looking to see if anybody was behind her. The hall was empty, but she heard the sound again. Curious, she began to push doors open.

Some sort of large library, a study...all entirely void of people. Why would you own all these things and not let people use them? Another thud. She opened a large, heavy door, rimmed with metal.

Katara froze in the doorway. It was Prince Zuko...he was alone, firebending in this large room, which looked like some sort of training room. She felt like she was intruding, but then again, since when did she care?

He wore a tight, dark red sleeveless shirt, and loose black shorts with a red sash tied at the waist. He was barefoot on the smooth stone floor. His back was partially to her, and he was practicing some sort of slashing motion with the fire. It raised goosebumps on her arms, to remember how they used to fight. He had gotten so much better at firebending, too, probably almost as good as Azula.

Then he stopped, relaxed his body. His stance got loose and comfortable, he bounced on his toes a little. Even though she hated firebenders, Katara missed bending dearly. She was very much out of practice; she'd refused to do almost anything since the last time she'd been in this palace. Bending reminded her too much of everything she had lost.

He raised his hands again. Katara found herself interested, despite herself. He performed the same slashing motion, except this time, it was white hot lightning instead of fire. She gasped, watching the incredible display of the highest discipline and control. The speed of the motion, the strength and grace, it was amazing to watch.

But he heard her gasp, and he dropped his hands in surprise. A mistake...the lightning burst, and he got a very unpleasant, very powerful burn. He cried out and cringed, grabbing his forearm in pain.

Katara almost moved to help him, but she remembered her hate, her anger. Letting it grab her, she turned to run away.

"No! Wait!"

She sprinted down the hall, angry tears in her eyes. This was worse than being a prisoner. At least as a prisoner she could attempt to escape, she had some sort of hope. But with the war coming to a culminating point, she couldn't risk the extermination of the Southern Water Tribe. She had seen what the Fire Nation had done to the airbenders.

"Katara! Wait!"

He was still behind her? She kept running, the hard sprint feeling good. It had been so long since she'd exerted so much energy, now that she wasn't bending. But he was still catching up to her. She felt his hand on her arm. Jerking it away, she felt unadulterated hatred course through her, taking control of her arms. She half-turned, her arm lashing backwards to ward him off. But the motion accidentally extended to a nearby flower vase, and before she knew it, she had sent a razor sharp stream of ice heading straight for the prince.

She didn't even have time to call it back. Zuko defended himself instantly, melting the ice into a cloud of steam. In surprise at herself, Katara had slowed, but after she saw what she'd done, she immediately burst back into a dead run. Terror coursed through her; if he told his father...

"_Stop_!"

As if. She raced wildly, not even sure what she was running from anymore. What was there to run from? Where was she even going?

A flying force from behind, and Katara catapulted forward. Crying out in pain and surprise, she hit the ground painfully. Hissing, she struggled to regain her footing, but to no avail. Zuko held his ground on top of her. She would have tried a punch if she had any sort of leverage or angle.

"_Get off of me_!" she screamed, more out of frustration than anything else. Accustomed to fighting, she didn't like being on the ground. She was rather small, and knew she was in danger there. But Zuko took advantage of his superior weight, using his hands to keep her from bending and holding her wrists from behind. His chest was at her back, pushing her face first into the ground. It was a terrible position for any bender to be in.

To her chagrin, blood began to rise to her face. It was a very intimate position...she could feel the hard plane of his stomach against the small of her back, his long torso _just_ brushing her rear...his weight was distributed over his knees, one pressed against her outer thigh, and the other-

"Done running?"

She jumped a little bit, then nodded. Anything to get off the ground. A tiny, faint, primal voice begged her to stay, and she shoved it back in disgust. He rose off of her, and she leaped away from him. Standing at what she felt like was a safe distance, she crossed her arms defensively.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to throw ice." _No, you're not. But it's not like you're going to tell _him_ that. _He seemed to agree with her inner thoughts, raising an eyebrow. But he didn't question it.

"No, that's what I wanted to stop you for," he said, almost eagerly. "I wanted to ask if you'd spar with me. I mean...I learn a lot on my own and with Azula, but I feel like I learn more if I fight with somebody who uses a different style. And you would too." He added the last part quickly, knowing that she didn't really care if his firebending improved or not. She'd probably prefer if he lost it altogether.

"Why did you have to tackle me for that?" she complained, brushing dirt off of her new white dress. When she noticed the long tear on the side, she almost felt bad. It really _was_ pretty. "And you ripped my dress!"

"No I didn't!" he objected. "You ripped it! I heard it when you started running!" Katara shrugged. Probably true. She did remember how surprised she was that this dress had let her run anyways. But it wasn't like she'd bought it.

"Whatever. I have tons more, apparently. But you're still not answering my question."

"Well, why did you run?"

"...I don't know."

"I don't know either."

They stared each other down. Katara really didn't feel like sharing why she'd run. She didn't need a shoulder to cry on, least of all his. And she felt like, for whatever reason, he didn't feel like sharing either. Fair enough.

The hostility broke when he looked back down the long hall they'd sprinted. "Why are you on this floor anyways? Alone? You don't even know where anything is. You should have attendants."

Well, nobody had mentioned _that_. "I was...um, looking for the kitchens. They said my stuff was somewhere down there." Not a lie, even though he looked suspicious. Katara sighed. There was just never going to be trust in this relationship.

"Well, if you don't mind walking with me, I usually go there after training anyways," he offered politely. Katara hesitated, not wanting to be near him due to the painful memories, but also wanting badly to find her things. And she also needed to talk with him about her father.

"I guess-"

"Zuko!"

Zuko whipped around, and Katara leaned to the side to see the source of the voice. There...a girl walking out of the library, two books tucked under her arm. She was smiling and waving. That is, she was until she saw Katara. It swiftly transformed into a grimace then.

"Oh. I thought you'd want to come with me to the garden. I found those verses you were looking for." She held up the two books. "I didn't know you had _company_." The way she said that made Katara's eyes narrow. This girl...you could tell, just by looking at her, that she'd never had to worry about anything. She was just given everything she'd ever wanted, raised a noble girl used to having her way. Talented, beautiful, clever...she was of the kind of blood that anybody would want to marry into.

Even Zuko?

"Yeah, I'll come out in a few minutes Mai. I'm dropping Katara off by the kitchens first, just wait for me!" He smiled at her, like she'd never seen him smile before. Was there something between them?

The girl, Mai, shot Katara a scathing look before turning and walking away. Yep, something had definitely gone down between them. Whatever. She could take that prissy snot on any day. She'd beat the living grumpy out of her.

"She seems to pleasant," said Katara, rolling her eyes. Zuko didn't take the bait. He knew better by now. But Katara shouldn't have been pushing him anyways, she knew. After all, she was the one who wanted something from him. "So...where exactly is my father?"

"Your dad? I don't know, in some guest quarters somewhere. He's probably not allowed to leave until the Fire Lord decides what to do with him. We're not big on letting prisoners of war go, especially not high profile ones, so I really don't know what's going to happen with him."

"But we're married now! Doesn't that mean anything? If I'm in the custody of the Fire Nation, shouldn't it be pretty clear that my father isn't going to launch any more attacks against it?" She was desperate to secure the safety of her father. No matter what anybody said about him being fine, or him being treated like her father, she couldn't believe it until he was safely traveling back to their tribe. No matter the level of respect, he was a prisoner like her in this palace.

"That's why it's a hard decision. And it doesn't help that you and I are going to the South in a few months. My father might intend on keeping your father so that you don't get any crazy ideas about attacking either. It's hard to say. I'm not the one pulling any strings, I just do what I'm told." They walked slowly back down the hall, Zuko seeming to know every twist and turn of the palace. Katara followed him grudgingly. She hated feeling like he was doing her a favor, especially when she knew he'd rather be with that snotty noble girl.

"Could I see him? Could I _ask_ to see him?" Why didn't anybody have any definite answers for her?

"Um...I can ask for you. You should probably stay out of my dad's way. It would be in your best interest if he just forgot you were here, honestly." He opened a heavy door trimmed with gold. _Ah, there the stairs were_. They began to descend.

"What happened to the stairs with the arches?" she asked, remembering the night before. Not pleasantly.

"They're in the other wing of the palace, you have to take the bridge over the main hall. These are sort of the back stairs, but they go all the way down to the kitchens." They walked almost amicably. "If you keep going, you'll hit the dungeons, and I wouldn't really suggest that."

Katara shivered. The Fire Nation was not known for its kindness towards prisoners. They left the staircase, which seemed much colder now, especially since the stone stairs continued descending into darkness.

The kitchen, though, threw her off. It was also constructed in stone, and enormous. There were great fire pits, ovens, and countless servants moving busily through the counters. They ranged from small children kneading dough to old women spicing wine, and the smell was absolutely incredible.

"Prince Zuko!"

Everybody immediately dropped what they were doing and dropped into bows and curtsies. Zuko raised a hand, and they all continued with their duties. Well, all except for one familiar little girl.

"Prince! You're early!" chirped little Soza, rushing over and dipping a neat little curtsy before giving both of them a toothy grin. "My momma is busy with the hens, but I can make your tea for you!" Zuko laughed and shook his head.

"Thanks, but I'm leaving in a few minutes. You can make some for Katara though." She looked mildly disappointed for a moment, before remembering that Katara was there.

"Princess Katara! I'm sorry we didn't get to help you with your bath, but me and Tana don't know how to do the dresses, so they wouldn't let us. I'll make you some tea though!" Katara couldn't help wanting to like this little girl. She was so happy, so kind. Katara had always wanted a little sister...

But the gold in her eyes incited a deep anger that she didn't think would ever allow them to be friends.

"No thanks," she said quietly.

"Hazina," called Zuko, catching sight of the older woman that Katara recognized as the one in charge of her wedding preparations. It seemed that she was some sort of overseer for the palace duties; she was on a patrol through the kitchens. She certainly didn't look like she was cooking anything down here, anyways. "Where are Katara's belongings? The things she brought with her from the south? One of the maids told her they were stored down here."

"Oh, those chests? They're in the empty quarters next to the servants' hall. We didn't know where to put them, since the Fire Lord wanted her to move into your room." She bowed to the prince, giving Katara a mildly disdainful look. Katara hated that look. She'd gotten it from almost everybody here so far.

"Thank you," he said, returning the bow. He turned back to her. "The quarters are out this door, and if you keep walking, it'll be the twin white doors on the right. I think there's a dragon painting next to it. I'm going to meet up with Mai, you'll be able to find it easily enough."

Katara nodded and pushed through the door without looking back. She told herself she was glad to be rid of him. She _should_ be, she knew. The grief was still much too fresh for her to be able to look at him without remembering. But...at the same time, he was the only person here who treated her with any kind of dignity or respect. He was the only one who was willing to help her, besides children that she didn't know if she could trust either.

She tried to bury the loneliness she felt when he left her. It was so stupid of her, letting herself get attached to him for whatever reason. She was so lonely here already, she knew that she needed somebody to confide in, somebody to keep her company. And she needed to fight the part of her that whispered for her to choose Zuko.

The twin white doors were easy to find. She opened them, sighing in relief at the sight of the chests lying unopened around the expansive room. It was entirely dark though; she wished she had a firebender around to light some of these old torches.

A light flickered behind her. Whirling around, Katara was surprised, and sad, to see Soza behind her, holding a little handful of flames.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I...I didn't mean to follow you. You just seemed so sad."

"It's okay," said Katara, sighing again. She turned and walked back into the room, this time with the slender little girl behind her. Approaching a heavy, carved wooden chest, she sank to the ground. One dark hand brushed against the smooth wood, feeling the raw grain of it. "Do you want to see some things from my home?"

The girl nodded excitedly, running closer. She leaned over Katara's shoulder as the chest opened.

* * *

"You spend a lot of time with her."

"She's been here for two days, Mai." Zuko frowned, wishing she would talk about something else. He didn't come to the garden to complain about Katara. He just wanted to spend time with the girl he loved. "What have you been doing, anyways?"

"Mostly reading. Azula's been busy with some ambassadors, and Ty Lee is leaving next week for Ember Island, so she's been packing. My parents are getting Tom-Tom ready to start school. So pretty much nobody cares where I am." She said it with a matter-of-fact tone, but Zuko knew her well enough to recognize when she was sad. He touched her arm gently. She lowered the book.

"I care," he said, meaning it. "I like when you visit me. It means I don't have to sneak out of here." She scoffed, closing the book and rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, but now I have to see _her_ all the time." Back on Katara. "I know she's your wife now, but...you don't like her more than me, do you?" She looked down at the ground, embarrassed of the rare display of emotion. She blushed a lovely shade of pink.

"Of course not. I don't even _like_ her. Can we talk about something else now?" He reached out and took her hands. But she withdrew them from his, curling them into fists.

"It's not fair!" she exclaimed, knocking the books off of the bench they were sitting on. "Why wasn't I good enough for you?! Why didn't he accept my father's proposition? I was practically _raised_ to be your wife! Why does she get to marry you, when she doesn't even want to be here? When she's_ not even Fire Nation_?!"

"It's the new world order idea my father has," said Zuko sourly. "If Lu-Ten was still alive, he'd probably be marrying some Earth Nation girl right now. I doubt he'll inter-marry Azula though. Unless she's his secret weapon for ending the war or something. That'd be a bold move from the Fire Lord, letting someone from another nation so close to the throne."

"It's so stupid. She's not even a princess, the Southern Water Tribes are impoverished. They don't even have a king."

"I think he hopes she'll have influence over the Northern Tribes, for whatever reason. I don't know, Mai! Why don't you ask my father? I don't know why he does the things he does." He stood, walking away from the bench. Why couldn't he just have a nice afternoon with her? Why, why, why couldn't his father have just accepted the stupid proposition, and foregone this entire ordeal?

"You shouldn't be going back with her," said Mai quietly. "You should be the crown prince. You're just as capable as Azula." Even as the words left her mouth, Zuko could hear the weakness of her argument. Azula was a better bender, she was smarter, more ambitious. Zuko's father would never put him on the throne while Azula was alive, and he didn't want to go down any path that would separate his family ties again. He was just getting back on good terms with the both of them.

"I'm sorry. I wish I could stay here with you." He returned to her, kneeling at her feet. Taking one of her little hands, he kissed it tenderly. "I love you."

Mai's stony expression faltered, then began to crumble. Her eyelashes captured a tear. "I love you too."

* * *

Hey guys, another update! I wanted to hit 20k words with this chapter, so it took a little bit longer. I'm pretty happy with it though. Don't expect them all to be this long! Most chapters should be around 5-6k words.

Also Toph will come in eventually. Sorry I haven't explained her whereabouts, I guess I completely missed that! Whatever. I love Toph, so you all better believe she'll be making an appearance. Until next time, please R/R!


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